There is nothing so relaxing or entertaining as a good story. I’m going to tell you one. Curl up in that favorite place. Maybe it’s by the fire on a cold winter day or in a comfortable chair with your favorite blanket. Maybe you are sprawled on your stomach across your bed, or laying on the floor, propping up your head with your hand. Maybe you’re outside on a comfortable wooden swing overlooking a backyard or a lake. Maybe you’re sitting beside the pool or under your favorite tree. Maybe you’re a traitor, sitting with an e-reader or in front of a computer. Wherever you are, let go, and let the words carry you away.
Once upon a time, there was a land, a country, a people. Against terrible odds, they won their freedom because they stood together, believing in a dream that some reading today would call foolish or impossible. Oh, but never underestimate the power of a dream. Dreams become ideas, ideas become passions, and passion can carry a person on through unimaginable opposition.
With the opposition gone, someone had to raise this country from her infancy. And someone did. A mere man, yes. But a man who was surrounded by other men of like mind. All of them wanting to raise up a country of morality, a country of freedom. This man knew what the country needed, what every country needs. He did his best to lay the foundation, to train this young country in the way she should grow. And grow she did.
As she grew through those formative years, the man knew he would not be around forever. Life is, after all, only a vapor. When it was time for him to move on, he did, passing the responsibility of raising this country on to another, but not without a careful warning. The last time he addressed the people as their leader, he warned them.
“Of all the dispositions and habits, which lead to political prosperity, Religion and Morality are indispensible supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them…And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect, that National morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.” (1)
Thus was the mantle of leadership passed on, the country gaining strength as she aged. The strength she gained was not merely the superficial strength of existence, but a strength that began in the heart and worked its way out to the physical. The physical strength held as she defended herself against enemies. Nothing was going to take away the freedom that had breathed life into her. She defended that freedom, but not alone.
You see, she had an Ally. An unbeatable Ally. As one man put it, “Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just. And this be our motto: In God is our trust.” (2) She relied on God to carry her through. To give her the strength she needed to carry on.
A supernatural strength that was needed when a war broke out amongst her own people. There perhaps had not been darker days than there were now. The fighting raged with neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, brother against brother. The current leader called to the Ally for strength to bring unity back to the broken country. He stood strong throughout the conflict, confident “that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from earth.” (3)
Perish it did not! The people laid down their arms, and slowly, the wounds began to heal. Their Ally had brought them through horrifying times, times when some doubted his existence. Others, however, knew that He could not possibly abandon them. As one man described how he saw the war, he wrote the following:
“Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South
And with the sound
The carols drowned…
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born…”
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song…”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.” (4)
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” (5)
And they came. From all parts of the world, they came. Frightened, hungry, defeated, running, but all with hope, a hope born of the same substance the country was formed from. The dream that became idea that became passion that became action.
Together, these peoples melded together into one people. Establishing homes and raising families. Children ran, played, and worked without fear of who may be lurking around the corner. Concerts and theatres were attended without concern over what one might hear or see. Doors were not locked for fear of who may wander in to steal. People greeted each other on the streets, unafraid to meet the eye of a stranger. That same stranger was often invited in for a nourishing meal before he continued his journey. In times of trouble, the people rose as one to defend their beloved country, the Stars and Stripes of her banner waving proudly, garnering the highest respect. No, it wasn’t perfect, but a sense of justice and decency surrounded most places as the people continued to heed the words of their first leader, leaning on the supports of Religion and Morality.
Are you enjoying the story? I hope so. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning. Darker days crept in, slowly, stealthily, steadily. What was that? What happened? Well, I’m afraid I can’t tell you.
You see, this story isn’t a fairytale. It is completely true, and the final chapters have yet to be written. Who knows? Maybe it’s still the beginning of the story, with plenty of time for things to change. Perhaps a new leader will rise up, a leader who will return the country to the supports on which it was built. Maybe a new hero will rise up to bring back the passion for hope and freedom.
Perhaps that hero will be you.
Yes. You. You are a part of this story, as am I. The magical country just described is OUR country. Once again, we need to rally together, calling on the Almighty God of the Universe, humbling ourselves before Him, begging him to “heal our land.” (6) With this healing can come the opportunity to write a new chapter in the country’s history. But, first, we have to stand. It’s a simple concept, really. United we stand, divided we fall.
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[1] George Washington, Farewell Address (September 19, 1796); quoted in “Vindicating the Founders,” <http://www.vindicatingthefounders.com/library/washington-farewell-address.html> (Accessed 17 March 2012).
[2]Francis Scott Key, “The Star Spangled Banner.”
[3] Abraham Lincoln, “Gettysburg Address,” November 19, 1863; quoted in Michael Waldman, My Fellow Americans: The Most Important Speeches of America’s Presidents, from George Washington to Barack Obama (Naperville, IN: Sourcebooks MediaFusion, 2010), 56.
[4] Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” The Complete Poetical Works of Longfellow (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1893); quoted in “Poem of the Week,” <http://www.potw.org/archive/potw118.html> (accessed 17 March 17, 2012).
[5] Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus,” (New York City: 1883), <http://xroads.virginia.edu/~cap/liberty/lazaruspoem.html> (accessed 17 March 2012).
[6] 2 Chronicles 7:14 KJV.
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